


「Flight HQ 0819」

by yuren



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alcohol, Drabble, Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Food, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:08:42
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 14,452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26400922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yuren/pseuds/yuren
Summary: Thank you for choosing flight HQ 0819. This will be a journey through the Haikyuu characters and their assigned cities as imagined by me, your unlicensed pilot/tour guide.Latest chapters:『Kita Shinsuke | Lake Biwa, Japan』『Ojiro Aran | Himeji, Japan』『Miya Atsumu | Beijing, China』『Miya Osamu | Singapore, Singapore』『Suna Rintarou | Kobe, Japan』
Relationships: Akaashi Keiji/Reader, Aobajousai Volleyball Club/Reader, Azumane Asahi/Reader, Bokuto Koutarou/Reader, Ennoshita Chikara/Reader, Fukunaga Shouhei/Reader, Goshiki Tsutomu/Reader, Haiba Lev/Reader, Hanamaki Takahiro/Reader, Hinata Shouyou/Reader, Inarizaki Volleyball Club/Reader, Inuoka Sou/Reader, Iwaizumi Hajime/Reader, Kageyama Tobio/Reader, Kai Nobuyuki/Reader, Karasuno Volleyball Club/Reader, Kindaichi Yuutarou/Reader, Kita Shinsuke/Reader, Konoha Akinori/Reader, Kozume Kenma/Reader, Kunimi Akira/Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou/Reader, Kyoutani Kentarou/Reader, Matsukawa Issei/Reader, Miya Atsumu/Reader, Miya Osamu/Reader, Nekoma Volleyball Club/Reader, Nishinoya Yuu/Reader, Oikawa Tooru/Reader, Ojiro Aran/Reader, Sawamura Daichi/Reader, Semi Eita/Reader, Shibayama Yuuki/Reader, Shimizu Kiyoko/Reader, Shirabu Kenjirou/Reader, Shiratorizawa Academy Volleyball Club/Reader, Sugawara Koushi/Reader, Suna Rintarou/Reader, Takeda Ittetsu/Reader, Tanaka Ryuunosuke/Reader, Tanaka Saeko/Reader, Tendou Satori/Reader, Tsukishima Akiteru/Reader, Tsukishima Kei/Reader, Ukai Keishin/Reader, Ushijima Wakatoshi/Reader, Washio Tatsuki/Reader, Yachi Hitoka/Reader, Yaku Morisuke/Reader, Yamaguchi Tadashi/Reader, Yamamoto Taketora/Reader
Comments: 60
Kudos: 171





	1. 『Flight Log』

**Author's Note:**

> **a/n:** thank you for starting this journey with me! this is a very new concept for me, and i’m really excited to share this with you :’) without further ado, here is a little piece of my heart for you♡♡♡

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sister cities/twin towns connections on Flight HQ 0819. There are six total, and so far, the ones revealed are:
>
>> Los Angeles (Oikawa) x Vancouver (Kageyama)
>> 
>> Taipei (Kuroo) x San Francisco (Kenma)
>> 
>> Sintra (Nishinoya) x Fontainebleau (Yaku)
>> 
>> Taipei (Kuroo) x Versailles (Lev)

**1\. 『Karasuno』**

  * Sawamura Daichi | Madrid, Spain.
  * Sugawara Koushi | Barcelona, Spain.
  * Azumane Asahi | Toledo, Spain.
  * Nishinoya Yuu | Sintra, Portugal.
  * Tanaka Ryuunosuke | Hualien, Taiwan.
  * Shimizu Kiyoko | Yilan, Taiwan.
  * Ennoshita Chikara | Tainan, Taiwan.
  * Kageyama Tobio | Vancouver, Canada.
  * Hinata Shouyou | Hong Kong SAR.
  * Tsukishima Kei | London, UK.
  * Yamaguchi Tadashi | Oxford, UK.
  * Yachi Hitoka | Jiufen, Taiwan.
  * Takeda Ittetsu | Dazaifu, Japan.
  * Ukai Kenshin | Chicago, USA.
  * Tanaka Saeko | Macau SAR.
  * Tsukishima Akiteru | Bath, UK.



* * *

**2\. 『Aoba Johsai』**

  * Oikawa Tooru | Los Angeles, USA.
  * Iwaizumi Hajime | Tokyo, Japan.
  * Hanamaki Takahiro | Sydney, Australia.
  * Matsukawa Issei | Brisbane, Australia.
  * Kyoutani Kentarou | Takayama, Japan.
  * Kindaichi Yuutarou | Chengdu, China.
  * Kunimi Akira | Hangzhou, China.



* * *

**3.『Nekoma』**

  * Kuroo Tetsurou | Taipei, Taiwan.
  * Yaku Morisuke | Fontainebleau, France.
  * Kai Nobuyuki | Sun Moon Lake, Taiwan.
  * Yamamoto Taketora | Donggang, Taiwan.
  * Kenma Kozume | San Francisco, USA.
  * Fukunaga Shouhei | Kaohsiung, Taiwan.
  * Inuoka Sou | Taichung, Taiwan.
  * Haiba Lev | Versailles, France.
  * Shibayama Yuuki | Neiwan, Taiwan.



* * *

**4.『Shiratorizawa』**

  * Ushijima Wakatoshi | Aachen, Germany.
  * Tendou Satori | Paris, France.
  * Semi Eita | New York City, USA.
  * Shirabu Kenjirou | Copenhagen, Denmark.
  * Goshiki Tsutomu | Lisbon, Portugal.



* * *

**5.『Fukurodani』**

  * Bokuto Koutarou | Osaka, Japan.
  * Akaashi Keiji | Kyoto, Japan.
  * Yukie and Kaori | Hakone, Japan.
  * Konoha Akinori | Keelung, Taiwan.
  * Washio Tatsuki | Kenting, Taiwan.



* * *

**6.『Inarizaki』**

  * Kita Shinsuke | Lake Biwa, Japan.
  * Ojiro Aran | Himeji, Japan.
  * Miya Atsumu | Beijing, China.
  * Miya Osamu | Singapore, Singapore.
  * Suna Rintarou | Kobe, Japan.



* * *

**7.『Itachiyama』**

* * *

**8.『Dateko』**

* * *

**9.『Kamomedai』**

* * *

**10.『Nohebi』**

* * *

**11.『Johzenji』**


	2. 『Sawamura Daichi | Madrid, Spain』

Staunch, steadfast Madrid, the centre of Spain, a rich, ancient capital with a constant undercurrent of youth that runs throughout the city’s cobblestone steps. A strong, alluring place of majestic royal palaces and late night churro lines at Chocolatería San Ginés. 

Daichi and Madrid is made up of _café con leche_ and sugary _napolitana_ at eight am. You arrive at the bustling café early enough to beat the tourist crowds yet late enough to mingle at the standing bars amidst the buzzing chatter of the shop’s grey-haired staff and their similarly aged regulars. Striking up a simple conversation with the elderly local enjoying the last bites of his croissant, Daichi blushes as the friendly uncle comments on how lovely the two of you look together. 

In the evenings, Madrid is about enjoying tapas at the Museo del Jamón’s flagship store — standing room only. It’s noisy, it’s rowdy. Equipped with a plate of _iberico_ cuts and cold citrusy beers an euro each, Daichi looks at you with a what-can-you-do kind of smile, and clinks glasses with you. It signals a commencement to meld in for the night, to laugh as rambunctiously and as freely as your beer-bellied waiter. And even in this golden midnight energy, you feel the grounded reality in this. This is what the locals do; this is Madrid, of large boulevards and sprawling plazas. Such a city cannot be built in one night. Daichi and Madrid, they truly show how wizened souls can live with both maturity and youth. 


	3. 『Sugawara Koushi | Barcelona, Spain』

_Blue and claret blowing in the wind, one valiant cry!_

Sugawara is a love poem to the Catalonian capital, where the fanaticism for life runs parallel to old, grandiose churches. 

In Barcelona, Suga insists that the two of you hit up _all_ the tourist spots, first marvelling at the Sagrada Familia in the morning, its stained glass windows and the modernist worship of art and life bringing inexplicable awe to your eyes. All the while, Suga is corralling you like a middle-aged Asian uncle and telling you to pose here and there as he snaps away with the clunky DSLR he’s gotten better at using since dating you.

Barcelona with Suga is also early morning swims on the rooftop pool of a splurge-worthy hotel. Content smiles on your faces, you soak in the waters, looking out at the perfectly symmetrical cityscape stretched before you in the Mediterrean sun. Barcelona is also a ten pm soulful Catalan meal after a day of old town exploration. Maybe a little blackberry gin and tonic and _crema catalana_ as nightcap? Or a day of lazing on one of Barcelona’s many beaches after screaming your lungs out at Camp Nou the night prior?

Barcelona is where you take it slow with the Mediterranean breeze. It is where you get caught up in the meandering colours of the Gothic Quarter. This is a city with a spice of life, and what better to accompany the spice than Sugawara’s refreshing, spicy sweetness?

_We’ve got a name that everyone knows: Barça, Barça, Baaarça!_


	4. 『Azumane Asahi | Toledo, Spain』

Ah, Toledo, ancient city upon a hill, a gentle, mesmerizing junction of three faiths and a bygone imperialist history. Toledo is tender, uncompromising, and overlooks all. A short stop away from Madrid, it is a heart in and of itself, beating in unison with the nation’s capital. 

Toledo with Asahi is hours spent wandering through the quiet gothic streets, beams of sunlight blinking through the towering churches and their bony spires. It is wide-angle photos in empty monastery hallways and soft aesthetic shots amidst pruned mandarin groves. It is silly photos of Asahi posing next to a statue of Miguel de Cervantes, and lazy strolls at dusk, up slow winding alleyways to the Alcázar for the most calming and peaceful sunset of your lives. 

In Toledo, Asahi speaks too easily, too quickly. He is unbound here, completely absorbed in all the traditional jewellery and metalwork. He gushes to you about the artistic influence of Judaism, Islam, and Christianity as the two of you sit at a restaurant al fresco, accompanied by heady sangria, _manchego_ , and marzipan. 

Toledo, so small, so steeped in history, carries the gentle whispers of times past and times awaiting. Asahi and you will fall in love again as the depths of a restless calm of the Spanish evening seeps into your conversations and the universe expands before your eyes in small, sleepy Toledo. 


	5. 『Nishinoya Yuu | Sintra, Portugal』

Sintra, the place of poets and lovers, of dreamers and wanderers. It is a land before the end, the land before a new beginning. Sintra is for the fearless, the lawless, the wild and the good. 

Upon the majestic Pena Palace, a place straight out of your wildest fairy tale dreams, you giggle as you snap a shot of Nishinoya, chest puffed out and wind threatening his hairdo as he poses proudly among the romantic reds, ochres, and blues of the palace walls. The palace is uncompromising, like he is — Portuguese Romanticism boldly flirting with Moorish, Bohemian, Turkish, and Chinese elements. 

The two of you run through the sensually eclectic feast for the eyes and soul, exploring every nook and cranny as palace staff warn Noya to not lean so dangerously over the palace walls. When lunchtime comes, you trek back to town for a quick picnic break of packed sandwiches and fruits, sneaking in some decadent sweets from legendary Piriquita as a pick-me-up. 

Sunsets are at Cabo da Roca, the westernmost point of continental Europe. Wild and rugged, it is the freedom of adventure and the unknown that grips at your heart as you watch Noya take in the seamlessness of the land, sea, and sky. He himself is something out of a fairy tale — no, an epic rather — as you once again stand in awe of him, free and unbound among the windswept cliffs and blazing sun. In Sintra, you are ageless, wild, and free.


	6. 『Tanaka Ryuunosuke | Hualien, Taiwan』

Hualien is a big city with small town vibes. The city, like Tanaka, welcomes you with an undying energy that is not too much or too little, yet still sets ablaze your loving hearts. 

In Hualien with Tanaka, breakfasts are spent at a bustling local roadside joint. Your table is filled with rice dumplings, white radish cakes, and frothy black tea. The food just keeps piling on, and with a mouth full of egg crepes and rice milk, Tanaka sheds a few blissful tears, much to the amusement of the grandpa next table over. Tanaka and the grandpa — who learned Japanese in his childhood — strike up an easy conversation about the nostalgia in this simple food. 

At the oceanside Nanbin Park, Tanaka teaches you how to find the most perfect skipping stone. When your stone inevitably drops straight into the lapping Pacific waves, he laughs loudly, a sound that barely reaches your ears as the wind carries it sea-bound. But you recognize the crinkle in his eyes and the freedom in the contours of his mouth, so you too fall into fits of laughter as the two of you try to conquer the Pacific again.

When night comes, Tanaka leads you down the stalls of Dongdamen Night Market. His eyes light up at the aboriginal foods while you steer him towards the aged busker crooning on his saxophone. Nearby, a roadside restaurant beckons your attention as servers flit about, immersed in a haze of steam-filled neons. You two end the night with baskets of fluffy buns and tall soy milk cups.

From Hualien, it’s a good idea to head up north, driving past the gradients of turquoise, azure, and sky blue of the Qingshui Cliffs, past the rice paddies, and beyond the lazy, idyllic towns of eastern Taiwan towards Yilan. 


	7. 『Shimizu Kiyoko | Yilan, Taiwan』

Yilan and Hualien are connected by the Suhua Highway, one of the most dangerous and scenic highways in the world. North of the winding roads and cliffside drives stands Yilan, a county of rice paddies, high plains, and cold hot springs. Yilan is lush mountains, life-giving streams, and endless stretches of fields. 

Yilan with Kiyoko is a stay at an idyllic _minsu_ outside of the bustle of the city. It is a bed and breakfast experience, with mornings of home-cooked meals using the freshest of ingredients, simple pleasures enjoyed right by the seasonal greens of rice and spring onion fields that stretch far beyond the villa’s property. Laughter comes easy to Kiyoko under the gentle Yilan sun. The two of you explore around town, hopping through the narrow walkways between fields and strolling down the majestic Mr. Brown Avenue, a light swing to your interlaced hands among the endless stretches of late summer greens. 

In the evening, Kiyoko tugs you towards a bustling night market. It’s a sprawling place, where nighttime stalls merge seamlessly into permanent stores that are open until midnight. At a roadside establishment, the two of you sit down to enjoy a bowl of red bean soup with glutinous rice dumplings. The two young brothers managing their grandpa’s single-item shop blush shyly as Kiyoko snaps a picture of you posing with the dessert. 

Yilan is for the heart and mind, where a rustic purity goes hand in hand with the warmth of a human touch. With Kiyoko, a fresh spring of mountain water herself, you leave the county refreshed and thoroughly nourished. 


	8. 『Ennoshita Chikara | Tainan, Taiwan』

The oldest city in Taiwan reserves much beneath its pedestrian streets and historied past. It is a time for revival and renewals in this old capital. Tainan is where a new era sprouts from the old forts and watchtowers. 

Mornings in Tainan with Ennoshita begin at an incredibly popular meat speciality restaurant, where the once pure white walls are now entirely blue from the scrawls and doodles of past visitors. You sit in your rickety stool, absolutely in awe as Ennoshita — entirely caught up in the nonstop energy of the city — downs bowls of Taiwanese noodle soup and plates of beef-topped scrambled eggs at ten in the morning. On your way out, Ennoshita leans on you for once, pointedly avoiding the waitstaff’s amused looks. 

Ennoshita, flustered and hoping to walk off the morning dinner, leads you to Anping, Taiwan’s oldest street. Among the souvenir shops and hipster cafes, a recovering Ennoshita dutifully takes "candid” photos of you as you meander through the alleyways. Out on the main street, a travelling troupe performs traditional opera. As the two of you watch in the crowds, a hunchbacked granny holds onto Ennoshita’s elbow for support as she strains to look over the heads of the other audience members. Fully in his element, Ennoshita tells you to stay put as he guides the granny to the front of the crowd. 

Tainan is hip, young, and up for a renewal. But when sunset comes and you’re sitting at the beach, on the jacket he’s laid out, sharing a bowl of silky tofu pudding as Ennoshita scolds you to eat slowly, you know that a lasting future can only be built on a stabilizing foundation. And Ennoshita is the sturdy foundation for your future. 


	9. 『Kageyama Tobio | Vancouver, Canada』

From sea to sky to mountain, Vancouver has it all. But Vancouver is also simply home for many, and it is home for Kageyama, even if for a short while. The warmth, the coolness, the love for life, for nature, for the city, for the people is all embedded into the postal code of the city. 

It’s a thriving, vibrant, unquenched love for life in this little Pacific Northwest haven, and for Kageyama, life is found in an insatiable appetite. You know well that Kageyama travels in order to eat. From creamy gelatos and _aburi_ -style sushi in downtown to handmade _dimsum_ and Shanghainese noodles in Richmond to the best buns and boba in Kitsilano, he will eat it all. And that’s one of the best things about being in a relationship with him, experiencing the variety and flavour of life together in little, potent doses bite by bite. 

At Granville Island Public Market, you find out that Kageyama is somewhat suspicious of seagulls and other birds. Seeing a gull attack a man’s fries and battered cod did not quell his wariness. Nor did the scatters of goose droppings in Stanley park. Luckily, the two of you had rented one of those ridiculous two-people bikes so you did not have to walk through all the grass. You make sure he sits in the backseat, knowing that his broad back will eclipse the other views. As he peddles leisurely for the two of you, you snaps endless photos of the view: of the seawall, of the mountains across the harbour, of the towering trees and totem poles, and of course, of Kageyama as he holds up a peace sign, himself grinning at your ease laughter in this beautiful city.

Summers are spent on the beach volleyball shores of Spanish Banks. In winters, evenings are for the midnight snowfall. On the highest point, on the mountains of the North Shore, you and Kageyama stand, chilly breeze around and plush snow between. The stars are the only things above you, and in front, the city laid out before you like an expanse of artificial stars, yellow and shimmering beyond the white drop. It’s a rush, a rush of freedom, abandonment, and total, utter trust that have the two of you tumbling down the slopes, laughing all the way to the bottom as you fumble your way to him, pressing your lips to his in a moment of reckless adrenaline and adoration. 

Kageyama speaks of Vancouver with a sigh in his voice, of a longing to return to the Spanish Banks, where he momentarily gives up his international success for a summer of laughter and enjoyment in beach volleyball. 

Vancouver brings him back, to a reminder to breath, to listen and feel life as it is. It’s about habits and people and the relationships that connect. Kageyama is fundamentally at home in Vancouver, and Vancouver in turn finds a place in his heart. As the two of you go back for a springtime Vancouver, Kageyama sits with you in the lull of an urban park, his arms around you, surrounded by the blushing blooms of the equinoxes of spring.

“Let’s come back,” he says, leaning his chin on top of your head. “I want to see the maples leaves with you.” 


	10. 『Hinata Shouyou | Hong Kong SAR』

Hong Kong, of opportunities and barriers, of cultures steeped like dark ceylon tea and of a tenacity towering like the city’s skyscrapers. Hong Kong is all you could love and hate. 

Hong Kong is about life, a city where seven-and-a-half million hearts pulse cacophonously as one. It is where one learns about living and how to truly breathe in the grit of everyday. 

Hinata in Hong Kong is about living life to its fullest. What’s the start to life without a classic breakfast set? Ham and macaroni in soup, the silkiest scrambled eggs with buttery toast, one ice cold, saccharinely bitter milk tea shared between the two of you. As part of the Hong Kong café/diner experience, Hinata gets hollered at by the waitstaff as he takes a second too long to get out of their way. He only laughs, easily catching a porcelain plate that slips from a waiter’s hand. 

After breakfast, the two of you stroll in and out of Sneakers Street, Kitchenware Street, and Ladies’ Market, snacking on egg waffles and curried fish balls. You try to convince Hinata that he does not need the “SurPeme” shirt or the “adidass” baseball cap when he has a ten-year Bouncing Ball sponsorship. 

By now, Hinata has learned how to be mindful of his health. After the non-stop eating, the two of you set out for some cleansing activities — hiking up Dragon’s Back and absolutely demolishing the beach volleyball competition at Repulse Bay. All this before once again stuffing your faces with warm pineapple buns with slabs of butter, sea breeze wafting around you as you walk along the Sai Kung pier, taking in the shouting fishermen selling fresh seafood from wooden dinghies below. 

Back in the city, you two embark on urban explorations. After a bowl of _wonton_ noodles with _gailan_ and oyster sauce, you two start off with the murals of SoHo, then to the traditional medicine streets of Sheung Wan, snapping pictures of cats throughout. The hazy, humid heat beats down on your backs until you reach the harbourside. With the setting sun cooling off behind you, the two of you take a selfie with his lips on your cheek. 

The night ends with a trip on the retro Star Ferry across Victoria Harbour. Hong Kong is gritty, a little dangerous, but the brilliance of the city forever surrounds you. The skyscrapers lights bleed blues, yellows, reds, and purples into the inky night. It is as if Hong Kong has spilled its everything into the sea, gently cradling the two of you in the centre of its harbour. There is no rest or sleep in Hong Kong. But even in such a metropolis, there is haven. As the two of you beat on with the lapping waters, Hinata wraps a sturdy arm around you. The two of you gaze out at the cityscape, in awe of all of its lights and darknesses. 


	11. 『Tsukishima Kei | London, UK』

No matter when, London remains the same. Same coolness, same warmth; a little indifference, a little passion. You know what to expect. 

You know what to order at breakfast: a fry up for you and a tea for him. Tsukishima refuses to stomach a plate of grease, no matter the occasion. In consideration of your pout and prodding though, he rolls his eyes and lets you feed him a small bite of everything. Among the gingham prints and canteen chairs of the old style cafe, Tsukishima gingerly sips on his tea as he waits for you to finish up your breakfast. You catch him staring right at you, and you grin, offering up another bite of the hashbrown. A violent shade of pink interrupts his softened gaze as he shakes his head, scoffing before proceeding to dump more sugar into his bitter brew.

As expected, he grumbles throughout your itinerary. Yes, he will go to Buckingham with you. No, he will not wait for the bearskins to march around. Yes, the House of Parliament is nice, but no, he’s not arriving at Big Ben precisely a minute before noon. Yes, Tower of London is where Anne Boleyn died. No, you dumbass, the Tower Bridge is not the London Bridge. He’s your personal guide, just snarkier and somewhat more willing to take selfies with you.

Surprisingly, Tsukishima does look forward to afternoon tea. He ignores the coronation chicken and cucumber sandwiches sitting daintily on robin’s egg dishware. Instead, as you and the waiter watch in apt horror, Tsukishima calmly inhales five scones and half of the strawberry shortcake before asking if he could take the remaining half to go. 

By far, Tsukishima’s favourite place in the city is the British Museum. After all, he can confidently point out the stolen artifacts to you. His comments are caustic and pointedly hilarious. With each mini rant, the two of you add a couple more followers to your impromptu tour, much to the chagrin of the museum staff. 

Dinner is at Dishoom, where you know that he’d love the dessert of strawberry, meringue, and cream. What you didn’t expect is for him to also fall in love with the toasty hot chai and the signature black _daal_ as well. And you definitely did not expect your exhausted boyfriend to agree to a nighttime ride on a night bus. 

London in May, London in November, you know what to expect. But as Tsukishima’s head falls onto yours as you two ride aimlessly around town, you think that even in the blasé everyday, a little bit of fortuitous love keeps dear old London tiding from yesterday into tomorrow. 


	12. 『Yamaguchi Tadashi | Oxford, UK』

The train from Paddington Station to Oxford is twenty-four pounds and one hour away. It is a route that many take daily, like clockwork, in and out of the city. It’s so every day that many no longer register the slow ease from London’s concentrated grey and cosmopolitan to the miles of green pastures of Oxford. 

After alighting at Oxford, Yamaguchi fumbles with the guide a bit before you suggest following the Chinese tour groups to town. At the town’s main street, he pulls out his selfie stick, motioning you to join him. With the first memento taken, the two of you walk hand in hand to the Ashmolean Museum, the world’s first university museum and UK’s oldest museum. It’s not mentioned in all of London’s guidebooks, but Yamaguchi prefers this kind of smaller-scaled intimacy. You two take your time with the exhibits, laughing as you take turns identifying the da Vinci’s from the Impressionists’. At the end of the musical objects wing, Yamaguchi tugs on your sweater, pointing at the most precious display: the Messiah Stradivarius. It’s a beautiful violin, he marvels. So much so that he is almost wary of getting too close to one of the finest Stradivarius in existence. 

There is much to wonder at in Oxford. Seeing the tower spires and climbing ivies, Yamaguchi smiles openly at the vitality around him, subtle and steadfast. Oxford is not made up of skyscraping glass or palatial greens. It’s the focus, pride, and endless drive for progress in Oxford’s stone arches and sprawling lawns that has Yamaguchi falling in love. 

After some dinner tavern fare of chicken pot pie and Sunday roast, you two make one last stop at Port Meadow, a beautiful piece of common land where streams meet the River Thames. Stepping onto the meadow grass stretched as far as the naked eye can see, you tug on Yamaguchi’s sweater in awe. Out there, in the open land, ponies and cattle graze in harmony. On the same field, groups of college students mill about, laying skywards with soft bound books and picnic treats. You turn back to him and you’re struck by another beauty. Under the expanse of the sunset and intertwining of man, animal, and nature, Yamaguchi holds out his selfie stick, the warmth and amazement in his eyes matching your own. 

One hour and twenty-four pounds away from London, there is a place that speaks volumes in its sheer history. Oxford is a wondrous place, an institution that commands impregnable respect through the efforts cumulated in a thousand years. As you chance a glance at the man sitting in the seat beside you, a thoughtful pride on his face and freckles glowing in the dusky sun, you know that Oxford will brighten up even London.


	13. 『Yachi Hitoka | Jiufen, Taiwan』

Gold is discovered through fortune and courage. Yachi was almost hesitant when you suggested a stop at Jiufen on the trip in Taiwan. An old mining town of narrow alleyways, haphazard mountainous terrains, and nostalgic teahouses, Jiufen has seen a revival after the release of Spirited Away. 

With this kind of popularity, Jiufen is all about how you look for beauty. When you first arrive at noon, in the overwhelming seas of Japanese students, dedicated Instagrammers, and diehard Miyazaki fans, you and Yachi almost balk and return to Taipei. Surprisingly, Yachi is the one to suggest that you two give the town a chance. Pulling your hand, she leads you back to your rented Vespa. The two of you head up the mountain, away from the concentrated masses, through nature’s canyons and peaks and mountain ranges, until you reach the Buyen Pavilion (“Not Tired Pavilion”), where nature meets Country Road 102. It’s a heavenly sight for the stressed and crowded mind, a rejuvenation before the night descends and you are once again submerged in a crowd at Jiufen.

It’s good that Yachi had the foresight to book a night’s stay at one of the town’s _minsu_. You do not have to worry about the rush of a day’s trip. Back in town, you two meander aimlessly in the alleyways and nooks and crannies of the old town. You chase well-fed cats, look for hidden No Face plushies, and enjoy reprieve at a teahouse, chatting on the upper floor balcony, sipping on oolong tea with ramshackle houses and gradient mountainside before you. 

Jiufen is about finding solace in a crowd. It’s a show of spirit and fortitude to overcome. That’s how you find Yachi determinedly tugging you towards the staircases again as soon as the clock strikes an hour to midnight. The coach buses of the afternoon have all left. A few Instagrammers still mill about with their professional DSLR and lighting. Yachi directs you in front of the red lit teahouse, lined with endless rows of nostalgic lanterns. With you as her trustworthy model, she snaps her own gorgeous shots.

Away from the crowd and with such muses around, Yachi is in her element. Jiufen is a journey about discovery. Repurposing your time to escape the sea of visitors in the day, discovering the less frequented gems beyond the old town roads. Eventually, with a staunch optimism and tenacity to overcome, you will find that little piece of splendid, transcendent beauty when the time is right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mr. Miyazaki himself has denied the influence of Jiufen on Spirited Away.


	14. 『Takeda Ittetsu | Dazaifu, Japan』

_“When the east wind blows, flourish in full bloom, you plum blossoms! Even though you lose your master don't be oblivious to spring.”_ \- Sugawara no Michizane, 901 A.D. **  
**

The warm winds blow early into Fukuoka’s February, carrying with them the first plum blossoms of the year. In the preludes of spring, Takeda suggests a weekend trip to Fukuoka’s Dazaifu Tenmangu, a Shinto shrine dedicated to the god of education. 

This expansive shrine teems with two hundred varieties and six thousand plum trees. Before the main hall stands the most important bloom of all: Tobiume, the Flying Plum Tree. Its lacquered branches of sumptuous blush and white overlook the younger trees and walls of wooden wishing plaques. 

As Takeda reads out a lovely wish by a literature department hopeful, you tug on his sleeves, laughing at one that simply says: “Pass the national exams. See BTS live!”

“That’s something Tanaka-kun and Nishinoya-kun would write,” Takeda chuckles, “but with AKB48 instead.”

You two stop by a teahouse to enjoy _umegae mochi_ and matcha in a grove of youthful petals and aged tree trunks. 

“It’s silly to chase an early spring here when I know they’ll bloom beautifully back home,” Takeda smiles quietly into his tea. “But a little luck from an early spring won’t hurt.”

You grin widely at his deepening blush. You both know far too well that in the main hall, in the sea of wooden wishes, hangs a humble declaration of a certain springtime victory. And in Takeda’s backpack, fifteen individual amulets will carry spring back to Miyagi. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The history of the shrine is very lovely, and in Dazaifu, do not miss the Kōmyōzen-ji, a quiet Buddhist temple with beautifully evocative rock gardens.


	15. 『Ukai Kenshin | Chicago, USA』

Steel, wind, and the beauty of the everyday. With its soul-warming blues and Midwest winters, Chicagoans seek glory in the grey, a love for laughter found through dedicated repetition, familiarity, and endurance. **  
**

Chicago with Ukai is about seeking laughter within the concrete masses. The day starts with breakfast at Valois, an Obama-approved cafeteria-style diner. It’s cheap, friendly, and filled with hungover students. Ukai literally froths at the mouth at the presidential favourite of “N.Y. Steak and Eggs”: two eggs, hashbrown, toast, and a big slab of American steak. 

“This really is America!” He laughs heartily at you, raising his much-anticipated diner coffee to clink with your mug. “Zombie kids, all day breakfast, and servings bigger than my face!”

Ukai is the ultimate tourist with his fanny pack, digital camera from Takinoue Electronics, and checklist.

> ✓Goofy couple selfies in front of The Bean sculpture.
> 
> ✓Biking along Lake Michigan.
> 
> ✓Redundant photos posed in front of artwork at the Art Institute.

He’s already reserved tickets for the Cubs’ home game and knows to bring back Garrett Popcorn for the kids. Ukai also plans for idyllic lunches by the Chicago River with Portillo’s take out and deep dish pizza, eating and resting while surrounded by glass, stone, and pockets of green. As he feeds you a fry dipped in decadent chocolate cake shake, he cackles in laughter as he accidentally smudges your cheeks. In the moment, you find your love in finesse and its rougher edges.


	16. 『Tanaka Saeko | Macau SAR』

City of dreams, glitz and glamour of Asia’s Las Vegas, where all can be lost in a night’s fever dream.

Mere streets away from the carnalities of casinos and galaxy resorts, Macau lives in the wet markets and neighbourhood courtyards where caged birds watch Chinese grandpas play _mahjong_.

Sure, Saeko will gamble once or twice — she will win, too. But she doesn’t stop there. She takes both turns at crossroads, and drags you along for the ride. You might end up in an old school _dim sum_ parlour of mahogany benches and green French windows or in a hidden alleyway with custardy egg tarts. Nobody knows. 

In the bustling streets of old Macau. Saeko tugs you this way and that, pointing at stalls where _ma lai go_ and white sugar cakes attack all your senses. At her insistence, you two drink potent herbal teas out of porcelain bowls and try every variety of egg cookies at the traditional shop. 

After a whole day of detours, Saeko slowly powers down. You smile understandingly as you suggest taking a much-needed break in the serene space of the Qing period Mandarin’s House. 

By dinnertime, Saeko is fully recharged. You choose a local’s joint, where roast goose and barbeque pork rice sets are dished out to motorcyclists and taxi drivers. This is Saeko’s chance to once again ~~impress~~ shock you with her capacity for food and drinks as she calls for encores of rice noodles and Blue Girl beers. By the end of dinner, she will have become glass-clinking pals with the beer-bellied uncles sharing your table. 


	17. 『Tsukishima Akiteru | Bath, UK』

Travelling with Akiteru is a nonstop honeymoon. In Bath, you stay at a 17th century bed and breakfast atop a hill. Here, nights are a little chilly, even when you’re enveloped in a four-poster bed. But with Akiteru’s warmth and broad back, it’s like having your personal sunshine. **  
**

Breakfasts are enjoyed right by the terrace windows, looking out at the pruned garden and waking city beyond. With a sumptuous spread of smoked salmon benedicts, pastries, and pots of tea, you and Akiteru grin widely at each other, lazily pampered in the morning glow. 

During the day, you explore town in your rented Mini. You pass by the magnificent Royal Crescent and the Circus. The golden splendour of the Jane Austen-esque architecture and streets has Akiteru stopping the car every other minute, whipping out his DSLR to snap more than enough pictures of you and the scenery. At the Roman Baths, you smile at the secret history nerd that he is as he pours through every inscription. 

As a day trip, you two drive out to Stonehenge, where you witness Akiteru fully freak out at the living history before him. It almost has him reconsider delaying his trip to London — almost. On your way back to town, through the rolling Somerset hills in the dusky sun, Akiteru snaps one more picture of you. 

“What was that for?” You quickly glance at him. 

“Nothing,” he smiles sincerely. “You’re just glowing.”


	18. 『Oikawa Tooru | Los Angeles, USA』

Sunset boulevards and golden banquets by the sea. The road down the Pacific coast hits Los Angeles, a city where dreams are born and broken and risen again. **  
**

Los Angeles with Oikawa starts with brunch. Fifteen-dollar avocado toast with hemp and pomegranate seeds, ten-berried acai bowl on the side, and oat milk matcha lattes to seal the deal. Post-brunch bliss is holding hands on the sandy shores of Santa Monica and cheering Oikawa on as he shows off Brazil-trained beach volleyball skills. 

In LA, Oikawa shows you off and shows off for you. He takes you to the best dumplings in Koreatown as recommended by his high school friend, guides you around the prettiest sanctuary at the Getty Villa, and during midnight taco runs, he prattles off in charismatic Spanish with the truck owners. There are mishaps of course. He takes you to Little Tokyo without a disguise on, and after beach volleyball, you aren’t quite prepared for the _many_ paparazzi shirtless shots. 

But Los Angeles with Oikawa is a blissful dream. Friday nights are sunset rides along the Pacific coast, driving as far north as the weekend would take you. Rooftop down, In-N-Out shakes in the cup holder, and Oikawa crooning a smooth rendition of “Hotel California” as the reds, golds, and oranges of the day’s last rays become mere shadows that trail after your love.

Los Angeles is a city of dreamers, of wayward children. It’s a microcosm of grit and glamour, one that holds a concentration of the best and worst of souls. Some dream and fall and never get up again. But when you look at Oikawa humming to himself, his forever hopeful expression eclipsing the gold of the sky and sea, his eyes chasing something far beyond the horizon line, you feel that even in Los Angeles, dreams can lead to happiness.


	19. 『Iwaizumi Hajime | Tokyo, Japan』

A metropolis of nine million souls. A quiet resilience runs through the city, a subtle declaration of pride in both the hive and the self. A strength that seeps through Marunouchi’s scentless metro stations and Shinjuku’s alleyway bars where salarymen find solace in 5am midnights. **  
**

Tokyo with Iwaizumi is an extension of a lifestyle, a belief. He wakes you up in your AirBnb, morning jog complete and breakfast ready. Fresh _shokupan_ from the nearby bakery, a perfect imitation of Lawson’s egg salad filling, and a healthy serving of simple salad. Oh, and _aojiru_ , the green juice that Iwaizumi insists on drinking everyday. 

It’s a small breakfast before the two-hour queue at the nearby _tantanmen_ place. It’s a drizzling morning, and you snuggle into Iwaizumi and his jacket as he scolds you for not bringing yours. Even so, he holds the clear umbrella above you while you await the soulful bowl of ramen that will surely earn Iwaizumi’s respect. 

When the sun shines again, Iwaizumi takes you to Kagurazaka where he geeks to you about the only one-way street in Japan that reverses depending on the time. You laugh along the neighbourhood’s quaint cobblestone streets where a few of Edo’s geisha tea houses still proudly stand. At the neighbourhood’s oldest sweets shop, you share matcha bavarian cream and seasonal _anmitsu_ as Iwaizumi unknowingly charms his way to another portion of the complimentary rice crackers.

Perhaps at night, after cold noodles and beer at a stalwart soba restaurant and after you whack Iwaizumi for teasing you when you got soba sauce all over your face, you’ll stroll over the Kanda River and straight into Akihabara. In the sea of hundreds of other fanatics — some are salarymen, some are school students, and one is the trainer for men's national volleyball team — you look on with adoration as you watch Iwaizumi grin at you with simple joy and pride as he claims victory over yet another PoGo gym.


	20. 『Hanamaki Takahiro | Sydney, Australia』

Sun-kissed harbours and seductive skylines, this capital city holds pride in being casual, comforting, and entirely cosmopolitan in a beach town kind of way. **  
**

Hanamaki slips into Sydney’s vibes almost too well. Pink flip flops and capris, he naps on you at Bondi, steals your ice cream on Manly’s shores, and convinces you to get the watermelon cake “for the ‘Gram”. 

At quintessential brunches, Makki eats absolutely everything. Ricotta hotcakes with honeycomb butter, scrambled eggs with avocado that actually tastes like avocado, Makki’s taste buds love it all. You have to forcibly remove him from the restaurant because he’s found a new lover in brunch culture. 

You two trek the length of Sydney Harbour Bridge before embarking the ferry at Luna Park, a terrifying structure that Makki also loves. You take _really_ good couple selfies on the ferry, a perfect shot of his lips on your cheeks right in front of the Opera House. 

You disembark at Cockatoo Island, a former convict prison. Makki jokes that he’ll jail you there, but you remind him that though he’s generally calm, he’s still more likely to do something stupid like Naruto-run up the fragile walls. As soon as the words leave your mouth, you immediately yank him back from actually doing that. But he Naruto runs anyways. On plain ground.

Oikawa recommended dining in the Sydney Opera House, and Hanamaki retorted that not everyone is a superstar athlete. Oikawa only casually replied, “you’re friends with one, aren’t you?” So that’s how your boyfriend finally dons the slacks and fitted button-up shirt you packed for him — a combo he looks amazing in — and enjoys a sunset dinner with you. Face aglow, simple smile rivalling the southern sun, he clinks his glass to yours. To calm, chaos, and love.


	21. 『Matsukawa Issei | Brisbane, Australia』

Brisbane with Mattsun is about enjoyment and to not take yourselves too seriously. Waking when you wake, you head to a brunch of sweet corn fritters and halloumi. After the meal and three delicious espressos, Mattsun still insists on boba before your urban exploration on electric scooters. **  
**

You ride over the green bridges, past man made beaches, and stop at community gardens where Mattsun pokes a few tadpoles. At South Bank, you embark on a ferry ride along the Brisbane River. The lazy sway almost has him wanting to never get off. But then you remind him of the beer festival under Story Bridge. He throws you a slow smile in gratitude, and drags you off the vessel. After grabbing two alcoholic kombuchas, Mattsun settles back down next to you on the grass. Surrounded by people just enjoying the sun and easy atmosphere, you almost feel like you two are meant to be here, together. 

At Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary, you keel over laughing as you went around naming the animals. “The Tasmanian devil is what you look like when you’re eating,” you cackle.

“No, I’m the emu,” Mattsun chuckles, and you burst into more uncontrollable laughter. 

He names a platypus Makki, a koala Oikawa, and an extra buff kangaroo is crowned Iwaizumi. Kyoutani a dingo, Yahaba a brush turkey. Kindaichi is a sheep, and Kunimi is a snake — it doesn’t matter which kind. Thanks to Mattsun’s generosity, you send the team loving postcards of their assigned animals. 

Handsome, down to earth, and almost laid back to a fault, Brisbane is about slow living. Back in the city, as you unlock another pair of electric scooters, Mattsun half-jokingly says to you, “let’s move here”. He gives you a quick grin, and speeds off into the sunset on his trusted orange steed. 


	22. 『Kyoutani Kentarou | Takayama, Japan』

The train ride up to Takayama is breathtaking. You pull on Kyoutani’s sweater at the jade green waters and lush mountains. When he responds with a soft smile, you know that this will be a good trip. **  
**

After checking into your ryokan, you enjoy a lunch of cheese _tonkatsu_ and _hoba_ miso Hida beef at a nearby restaurant. A thing about travelling with Kyoutani is that he _will_ try anything. If it’s good, he’ll _love_ it. And he loves this cozy establishment run by a middle-aged couple.

Kyoutani takes interest in Takayama’s old government offices. Under the Tokugawa shogunate, Takayama flourished despite its remoteness. Walking throughout the stately compound, Kyoutani quietly explains to you the administrative and rice taxation systems back then, a topic he picked up in college.

From there, you head to Takayama’s beautifully preserved streets of traditional houses and shops. At the sight of a sake brewery, Kyoutani tugs you in, not for drinks but for sake ice cream. When you pass by a yoghurt shop, he also nudges you in. At every location, Kyoutani initiates a photoshoot. He’s dedicated, getting your full body shot, upper-body portrait, and landscape orientation, completely ignoring other people waiting for their turn. Your pictures need to be perfect.

At sunset, you stroll along the riverbanks, where daisies spring in patches and carp streamers billow in the mountain winds. Kyoutani watches you hop onto the river rocks with slight amusement. When you miss a step, he catches you immediately, hand wrapping around your back with a surety he’s acquired since high school. As the last rays dip low behind you, you reach around his neck and give him a simple kiss, smiling at the blush that erupts like fireworks before the two of you stumble into the cold spring of Takayama’s river.


	23. 『Kindaichi Yuutarou | Chengdu, China』

Chengdu is dichotomies that mingle, tongue-numbing hotpot that coexists with teahouses and leisurely parks, stone alleyways and glass-framed megamalls. **  
**

In the morning, you stroll through People’s Park, soy milk and _jianbing_ in hand. Kindaichi takes interest in the miles of mahjong tables lining the riverbank. As he awkwardly hovers over the grandpas and their games, you laughingly encourage him to chat in his broken Mandarin learned through Chinese TikTok. At his awkward _nihao_ , the grandpas laugh in amusement, quickly offering you tea from clay cups and ushering your bumbling boyfriend into a seat.

After stumbling through the intricacies of mahjong, Kindaichi finds some comfort in the largest panda research base in the world. He laughs at the dumbness of the tumbling bears, and you offhandedly comment, “you’re no different.” That’s how you end up with a new lockscreen of matching panda hats and a pouty boyfriend. 

You spend the afternoon at one of many idyllic tea houses around the city. Willow trees, glazed tile roofs, and pots of _pu’er_ tea, you watch this ancient city slip in and out of ancient alleys on Segway scooters. When the sun lulls to sleep, you have a new homescreen of Kindaichi snoring in his bamboo chair behind a sleeping grandpa. 

In a constant struggle between looking cool and being awkwardly endearing, Kindaichi realises that he, in fact, cannot handle Sichuan hotpot’s spiciness. Luckily, you had the foresight to order the mildest option. After dinner, Kindaichi reattempts his hipness, and drags you to Instagram hotspots. In front of the most aesthetic Starbucks ever, you two take couple pics. On Jinli Street, you help him take Hypebeast photos.

Surrounded by red lantern lights hanging from lacquered architecture, Kindaichi looks into your camera lenses. Through the filter, you realise the dichotomy of spice and tea that exists in him. He, like the city, is a fiery, youthful temper that accommodates a splendid soul. 


	24. 『Kunimi Akira | Hangzhou, China』

“Above, there is heaven; below, there is Suzhou and Hangzhou.” A calm beauty of eons past and a dream of technological futures, Hangzhou is a progressive city once worshipped by dead poets and revered by emperors of yore. **  
**

A Hangzhou sojourn with Kunimi starts with brunch at a hipster café serving traditional food where blushing staff members give Kunimi large servings of fresh soy milk and extra filling in the sticky rice roll. 

Kunimi insists on touring by way of Chinese Uber. First stop is Lingyin Temple, one of the oldest and largest temples in China. As you marvel at the majestic pagodas and solemn halls, he strolls behind you, alternating between fanning your neck and his face with the “silk” fan he bargained for.

After unparalleled views of West Lake from the Leifeng Pavilion, Kunimi decides that this is enough. He calls upon his trusted Chinese Uber with the air conditioning, and whisks the two of you off to the Longjing tea hills. With the lush, terraced plantations behind him, Kunimi smirks in lazy victory as you sip in a grudging bliss on the fragrant tea and chomp on teacakes.

For dinner, you two enjoy river shrimps stir-fried with rice wine and more Longjing tea in a popular air-conditioned restaurant. As Kunimi polishes off the remaining shrimps, you smile at his budding appreciation for the fresh subtlety that the city has to offer. Though, his favourite dish is still the sweet and salty lotus root stuffed with osmanthus sticky rice.

By 9pm, the moon hangs high over the West Lake. You lounge at a teahouse-turned-bar by the moonlit lake. 

“Let’s ride the gondolas at Xixi Wetlands tomorrow,” Kunimi suggests with a teatail in hand. “It’ll probably be romantic and relaxing.”


	25. 『Kuroo Tetsurou | Taipei, Taiwan』

Under the towering skyscrapers and entrepreneurial spirit, Taipei is a seamless intermingling of modernity and tradition, a coexistence of heart and brain. **  
**

Taipei with Kuroo is merging between realities and dreams. It is soft morning rays on tousled hair, sharing _fantuan_ from the rickety street stall. Kuroo chats easily with the friendly auntie and KochiKame uncle running the stand. Sitting by the curb, Kuroo feeds you sips of soy milk as you watch customers come and go, from bleached-haired teenagers to hobbling grandpas. The husband-wife duo greet each of them with grateful, weary grins.

Kuroo takes you to experience the old, new, and everything in between, from Ding Tai Feng’s pristine Taipei 101 flagship to the rich yet delicate noodle soup of a basement shop. Under the red-brick arches of Taipei’s oldest street, you and Kuroo weave in and out of traditional medicine shops and cutesy boba boutiques. Kuroo’s a lifestyle naturalist, favouring the most realistic shots — your pinched face in trying bitter teas, eyes bulging at a stubborn tapioca pearl.

Just for you, Kuroo drags his geriatric circadian rhythm to Ximending, where night and neons overtake this massive shopping, eating mecca. At a famous oyster omelette stall, he gawks at the chef twirling his spatula like a third arm. At Kuroo’s intense stare, the naive chef looks up and promptly misses a flip of his omelette. Cue Kuroo’s cackling. 

As you watch Kuroo fascinate himself with the increasingly flustered chef, Taipei buzzes around you. The natural, unfettered warmth grasps at you, urging you not to let go as you focus on the tall, silly, slightly flushed boy with an old kind heart before you.


	26. 『Yaku Morisuke | Fontainebleau, France』

Château de Fontainebleau witnessed the turbulently glorious reigns of thirty-four kings and two emperors. Intensely grand, a dark, almost seductive allure runs through its gilded halls and expansive forest. 

Walking through the palace, rain pitter-pattering on glass panes, Yaku inhales the quiet opulence breathing through the palatial walls. Fontainebleau possesses solemn pride: intricate ceilings, brooding hallways, muted foyers, all breathtakingly regal. Intimate romance follows as you walk silently side by side, interrupted by occasional comments from Yaku as he reads off the info plaques on Napoleon I. 

He’s thinking about his journey. Tokyo, Russia, Japan. When Kuroo heard about your day-trip plans to Fontainebleau, he messaged back a “napoleon abdicated there in 1814 :)”. (Yaku blocked him afterwards.) Three days ago, at Lev’s Versailles photoshoot, your boyfriend nearly annihilated the supermodel for an even less subtle comment. But now, in the halls of the bygone kings and empires, Yaku thinks about the small giants of history. 

In the afternoon, you take shelter at a local _pâtisserie_. Surrounded by the cozy chatter of French grandmothers, you and Yaku savour you hazelnut tarts and vanilla millefeuilles. 

“I was thinking,” Yaku says after a particularly thoughtful sip of dark coffee, “we can hold our wedding here.”

“I’d like that,” you smile back warmly, feeling the mellow sweetness of the vanilla spread through your palate. “But Morisuke, you have to propose first.”

Fontainebleau, the glory of nearly eight centuries of kings and emperors. Surely, they could accommodate one more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Napoleon was actually pretty standard height. For this, let’s just pretend he’s as short as his rivals had described him.


	27. 『Kai Nobuyuki | Sun Moon Lake, Taiwan』

Emerald lakes, jade green peaks, lowly misted mornings transcending the mortal plane, the Sun Moon Lake crowns this treasure island. **  
**

You and Kai check into a _minsu_ at Ita Thao, a village by the waters. The guest house is simple but carefully maintained by an aboriginal Thao family. Breakfasts here are nothing fancy, but each item is all lovingly-made: hearty rice milk, homemade _luroufan_ , earthy congee. Kai smiles appreciatively through each bite. You grin at him, already feeling the warmth, genuiness, and kindness sap away the morning chill. 

When the sun breaks through the cloudy sky, you bike your way around the lake. From a mystical morning scene, the lake transforms into a sunny, beckoning wonder. When you mention offhandedly that you want to try the very popular tea egg at one of the vista points, Kai patiently queues for you. He laughingly complies when you want to take a couple selfie right by the waters, posing with your hard-earned porcelained eggs. When you inevitably drop the egg straight into the pristine waters, Kai only pats your head and offers you the rest of his. 

At sunset, you two stand at the top of the majestic Wenwu Temple. The clicks of professional cameras snap furiously around you, but Kai merely keeps your hand warm in his, enjoying your presence in this heaven on earth. It’s grand, it’s celestial, it’s golden skies and shimmering expanses of lake. But it’s also grounded, serene, and kind. At Sun Moon Lake, it is heaven and earth and everything kind in between.


	28. 『Yamamoto Taketora | Donggang, Taiwan』

Like any port city, Donggang is chaotic and unadorned. In experiencing it with your heart though, you’ll find depth in its rough edges, soul in its simple streets.   


When Yamamoto hears about Donggang’s bustling morning market, you two zoop over there on your rented moped at the crack of dawn. The freshest seafood, the loudest fishmongers, Yamamoto thrives in it all, but he forgets that with fresh catch comes an overwhelming fishy smell that neither of you particularly enjoy being attacked by early in the morning.

So you retreat from the main market for now, and find something to settle your stomachs first. At the sight of a rambunctiously loud store, Yamamoto excitedly nudges you in. He doesn’t even know what they’re selling exactly, but he orders anyways. Luckily for you, it’s _mantou_ buns, steamed then charcoal-grilled. Yamamoto had made sure that yours was to your taste while he went for the full trimmings of tuna, _rousong_ , and egg. And another of cucumber, ham, and cheese. And _another_ of condensed milk and cream. Even after, he continues trying different local specialities: brown sugar mochi, _rouguo_ , sakura shrimp…You look on in awe and fear, wholly comprehending why Kenma prefers not to eat with your V.League boyfriend. 

At night, you chat and laugh with the hosts of your simple and unadorned _minsu_. For your arrival, they’ve thoughtfully prepared old-style sponge cakes, tofu pudding, and yellow watermelon. As you watch Yamamoto take his time to savour his food for once, slight moisture in his eyes, you smile understandingly. This is Donggang: crass, comfortable, cozy.


	29. 『Kenma Kozume | San Francisco, USA』

San Francisco, a confluence of super liberalism and Victorian houses, overnight inventions and two-hour brunch queues. Eccentricities that power innovation and growth, determinations that ground communities. The City breathes in the present and lives in the future. **  
**

San Francisco with Kenma is half work, half play. Work is a relentless gameplay: morning lectures at Berkeley’s urban halls, afternoon sessions in Stanford’s sun-kissed auditoriums, evenings at Intel as an esteemed guest. He enjoys it, Kenma assures you, even as you see his HP draining away. But with a passion that he's learned to temper since high school, he successfully concludes his nighttime event at Apple Park.

But even in San Francisco, the pause button exists. Cruising in a Tesla — rented or purchased, you decide — Kenma looks out lazily from the passenger’s seat at the steep hills and windy shores, occasionally feeding you an In-N-Out fry and a sip of shared milkshake. He finds comfort in Chinatown’s grounded chaos. Aunties yelling in Taishanese — method in madness; long queues for eggs tarts from a dingy shop — custard gold hidden in plain sight. 

Dinners are at Japantown’s eclectic hole-in-the-walls, where shounen manga line the bookshelves, Cloud Strife graces the walls, and homemade mixers sit in tall mason jars. Before nine, you’ve changed into cat-print pyjamas, savouring organic apple pies from women- and minority-owned bakeries in the comforts of your cozy suite.

Restless, innovative, forever tiptoeing between today and tomorrow, San Francisco is everything and more. In the rush to tomorrow and beyond, you and Kenma find much needed filler content among the City’s cutthroat grinds of passion.


	30. 『Fukunaga Shouhei | Kaohsiung, Taiwan』

Taiwan’s largest port city is a divide between the eclectic and the industrial. Or rather, it is industrially eclectic.

Fukunaga finds resonance here almost immediately. From the get go, he is awestruck by the colourful structures of Lotus Pond. From the ginormous statue of a Taoist god to the Dragon and Tiger Pagodas, Fukunaga loves it all. When you tell him of the auspicious superstition that running into the dragon’s mouth and out from the tiger’s will bring you good fortune, he raises both scarce eyebrows at you. 

“But I’m already _shouhei fukunaga_ for you.” (A/N: “Shouhei Fukunaga” can mean “consistently inviting eternal blessings.”)

You hit him lightly as you burst out laughing at his very appropriate joke, but you ensure that both of you go through the beasts’ mouths for extra luck. And with this luck, you two chance upon the best bakery in the world. At Wu Pao Chun, Fukunaga is in absolute _heaven_ as his eyes widen at the flavours: red wine longan, lychee rose, peach berry tea... He leaves the bakery very satisfied and clutching three heavy loaves of delicious carbs. 

At sunset, you two enjoy local art pieces in Pier 2’s revamped warehouse space. Just like Lotus Pond, these interactive murals and Gundam statues are fun, quirky, and don’t take themselves too seriously. But as you watch Fukunaga quietly study a particularly expressive installation, profile softened by the golden waters, you silently toast to life’s breadth of humour found in the most unexpected of places.


	31. 『Inuoka Sou | Taichung, Taiwan』

Laid-back, generally mild weathered, Taichung is a big city with small town vibes. But when you and Inuoka arrive at Gaomei Wetlands, anticipating a beautiful sunrise, you are instead met with heavy winds and pelting rain. There is not a single soul out there, not even mudcrabs, but you two venture onto the broadwalk anyways (A/N: don’t actually do this). You burst out laughing at Inuoka’s wet puppy dog look, and he giggles at yours in turn. Clutching onto his phone with both hands against the harsh elements, he takes one quick selfie of you two to capture this stupidly unforgettable moment forever. **  
**

Despite the occasional weather mishaps, Taichung is kind. When the hotel staff see your sorry states, they offer you towels and drinks. At Chun Shui Tang, the birthplace of bubble tea, the waiter smiles as Inuoka positively vibrates with excitement as you two enjoy fragrant milk tea and spicy bean curds. At Painted Animation Lane, people laugh along with you as Inuoka poses in between Gintama’s Sadaharu and Gon Freecss. (When he sees the mural of characters uncannily resembling several of his friends, Inuoka almost goes into shock.)

At the bustling and lively Fengchia Night Market, Taiwan’s biggest, Inuoka stares at everything, tugging you along to this and that. In the pouring rain, you accompany Inuoka in line for the juiciest fried chicken steak, blowing cool air on a plum-flavoured yam fry before feeding it to him. As you watch Inuoka grin before taking a bite, you fall deeper in love with his kind, glowing aura on this rainy, neon night.


	32. 『Haiba Lev | Versailles, France』

Travelling anywhere with Lev is a hit and miss. During the photoshoot, you had the Château de Versailles all to yourselves but there was no time for fun. Today, as you queue under the scorching sun with all the time in the world, your boyfriend whines about his sweaty face mask and itchy wig. **  
**

But once under the artificial heavens of Renaissance masterpieces, Lev temporarily ignores his discomfort and sets up phone-on-the-floor selfies with you beneath every dreamy ceiling. At the Hall of Mirrors, he shines with an innocent wonder that rivals the brilliance of the chandeliers.

“If I raise my arm up, I bet I can grab a crystal for you.” 

“Do _NOT_.”

After dissuading Lev from jumping onto Marie Antoinette’s bed like he did during the photoshoot, you finally make it out to the gardens. But back under the sun, Lev can’t take it anymore and yanks off his mask and wig. 

Chaos ensues. 

Before the screams get any closer, Lev grabs your hand and _bolts_. In rapidfire French, he convinces a gardener to let you two hitch a ride on a maintenance golf cart to l’Orangerie. In the quieter gardens, free from disguises and fangirls, you two rest under the orange, pomegranate, and lemon trees.

“Let’s get married here!” He laughs, swinging your hand in his. 

“Haiba Lev,” you groaned, “you haven’t even proposed.”

Stooping down, Lev presses a sweaty kiss to your lips. 

“Marry me?” He grins.

Unmatched opulence with a dash of playful hope, Versailles was home to childish kings and vainglorious queens. Beneath gilded golds and polished silvers, burns a haughty warmth.


	33. 『Shibayama Yuuki | Neiwan, Taiwan』

A sleepy Hakka town popular with daytrippers’, Neiwan is a throwback in time with its colonial train stations and picturesque old streets. To discover the spirit of this aging town, you and Shibayama stay overnight. **  
**

Dinner of _lei cha_ and stir-fried _bantiao_ , B&B at a charming, vintage _minsu_ run by a well-spoken Hakka couple, seemingly the only under 30s here. In simple Japanese and English, your hosts talk of their journey from the city’s nine-to-fives to Neiwan’s leisurely pace. 

Shibayama coaxes you up for morning strolls before the daytrippers arrive. With his Kodak, he captures bright shots of you marvelling at roving mini-truck markets and pouting at a fat cat. Grannies laze in bamboo chairs by the road, smiling endearingly at you two. Shibayama gives them a shy wave back as you giggle at his flushed face. 

On the main street, you spy an elderly man doing prep work at his cake shop. When he overhears Shibayama’s Japanese, he waves you over, striking up an easy conversation. The uncle talks passionately of his youth and his laborious dedication to his cakes. Shibayama listens attentively, and in return tells the uncle of his Nekoma days and Div. 2 experiences. When the uncle’s wife brings out fresh mochi, he only smiles at Shibayama’s genuine politeness: “For you. Not for sale, not for casual sharing.”

In mellow Neiwan, you learn of slow living from a young couple, cake shop philosophies from an aged uncle. Each bite of mochi reminds Shibayama of his roots. He sneaks you a heartfelt smile as you float amongst the young, the grey, the unbroken, the spirited.


	34. 『Ushijima Wakatoshi | Aachen, Germany』

Emperors of old, conquerors of yore, Aachen saw the ascensions of thirty-one Holy Roman Emperors and twelve German queens. It’s the imperial capital of Charlemagne, unifier of Europe, restorer of the Western Roman Empire, driving force of a new renaissance. Aachen, once the kingdom of kings, now exists in the quiet breath of spring.

You and Ushijima take the short flight from Poland to Germany’s westernmost city. He steps out of Aachen’s train station onto cobblestone streets and Roman ruins, and takes a deep breath. Watching his shoulders lose their tension, eyes soften after months in the European league, you too finally breathe as you slip your hand into his much larger one, calloused fingers enveloping yours.

To Ushijima, Aachen holds a deep, inexplicable sense of belonging for a place he’s only seen in his dreams. He steps into the solemn space of the Aachen Cathedral with its marble walls and stained glass windows that reach for the heavens. He looks slowly, taking everything in. You walk alongside him, happy to ground him in your intertwined hands. You try not to be overwhelmed by the poignancy of the place, you really do. But when you reach the altar and you feel Ushijima bring your hand up to his lips, his gaze low and his lips truthful, you forget to breathe. 

In Aachen, you can’t help but wonder about the glories of centuries past and the men that have fought for their rights to stand in these halls and fly their banners on these streets. Standing in front of the cathedral, eyes looking straight and unwavering, Ushijima wraps his arms around you, head resting on yours. Hearts renewed, magnolias in full bloom, you bring your entwined hands up to your lips and the head that wears the crown is light again.


	35. 『Tendou Satori | Paris, France』

Dreams of the everyday and realities of the surreal, in Paris, there is beauty in impressionism and true love in surrealism. Nothing is strange and everything is kind in this City of Love.

Tendou is already a half inhabitant of this place. He’s over the moon to finally show you his city. You visit him at his shop, he brings you to his favourite sweet spots: Angelina’s hot chocolate, the fucking expensive yet heavenly Les Chocolates de Alain Ducasse, and chocolate-pistachio escargots from Du Pain et des Idées.

At L’As du Fallafel, Tendou falls into easy laughter, rolling his _merci’s_ and _mon amour’s_ with the restaurant’s staff. At Petit Palais, he shows you all his favourite pieces and afternoon spots. When he holds you on the banks of La Seine, he kisses your cheeks, your forehead, and lastly your lips. You giggle into the longing, tenderness, and strange, kind love as relics of a Parisian bygone smile for you two. 

“You know, you could stay with me,” Tendou says to you one fine evening as you two sit in Parc Monceau. Quaint Italian condos turned art galleries, couples with their strollers, he holds your hand in his as he studies them with interest. “Sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

Tendou lets a little laugh, letting your answer drift into the gentle winds of the Parisian night.

Beyond smoky breaths and appraising gazes, the city holds an allure that has both frightened and enticed visitors for centuries. It’s a beguiling tenderness. And this strange tenderness is what stays with you and makes you think, years down the road, when you’re sure that you’ve finally got this city figured out, you remember that ah, this too is Paris.


	36. 『Semi Eita | New York City, USA』

Obsessive, hot-headed, proud, New York City needs no introduction. The city clashes and turns, pushes and surges from Central Park out to the rest of the city, the country, the world. New York _is_ the world, and the world is New York’s.

New York City with Semi is about currents that carry you. He competes head on with the city as he pulls you from Brooklyn to Queens in search of vintage records stores. Almost obsessively, he gets ahold of all the tickets he can: from Radio City to Carnegie Hall, he wants to see it all, experience it all, with you with him. You pour hours into the Costume Institute, completely absorbed in each other and all the fashion that even Paris could never dream up of. 

But it is when the city lets loose — NYSE finishes the day’s transactions, construction workers put away the hardhats, ties come undone in Manhattan’s bars — that Semi cuts the currents of bustle and hustle. He sits with you at Magnolia Bakery, a carton of banana pudding between you, leaving Times Square to the young and restless. 

Semi’s eyes crinkle with the laughter of the city lights, wiping away the smudge of custard near your lips. He confiscates your spoon, heaving a mock sigh as he feeds you himself. 

New York holds an electric current that gives you the choice to either get buried in the banality of everyday or surge forward and prove yourself to New York, to the world, to yourselves. As you look at Semi’s exhausted, satisfied face, you too push against the currents that carry. If New York holds the world, then Semi holds New York, with you with him.


	37. 『Shirabu Kenjirou | Copenhagen, Denmark』

Modern refinement, minimalist greyscales coupled with pops of colour, Copenhagen is a happy neutrality, soft joy found in even the straightest, cleanest roads.

Joy is found in the single mother that hosts your Airbnb. She offers bread, butter, and company each morning. You and Shirabu listen to her talk about Danish education and egality. Shirabu responds in kind with his thoughts, no less rational, no less passionate. 

Late morning suns, gentle winds through open doors, some mornings are spent at a hipster porridge bar — yes, you read that right, and yes, Shirabu loves it there. It’s the practicality in a bowl of hearty oats, coupled with the creativity of twenty-first century entrepreneurship that warms Shirabu further to Copenhagen. Shirabu props his elbow on the wooden table, smiling slightly as you offer him the last spoonful of _skyr_ and dulce de leche porridge before shaking his head. 

You close a love lock among technicolour houses and waterways. You bike past Hans Christian Andersen’s graveyard and quaint castles. Shirabu is discerning of his likes and dislikes even here. He grudgingly pays for $7 coffee, but he shells out his doctor’s salary on _smørrebrød_. He respectfully raises an eyebrow at the Little Mermaid statue, but he appreciates the immaculate green fortress of Kastellet. 

In the gardens of Kongens Have, Shirabu grins at you widely in a rare show of public tenderness, warmed by the late Scandinavian summer. With a small laugh, he pulls you down with him onto the tidy lawn, joining other couples in an existence away from white coats and clinical minimalism. This is Copenhagen, a sleek functionalism ultimately grounded in the quaintness of human passion.


	38. 『Goshiki Tsutomu | Lisbon, Portugal』

Street tram alleyways and an ardent love for life, Lisbon is a sunshine city for a sunshine boy. Uber drivers that shake your hands and Airbnb hosts that welcome you with wine, tuna, and chocolates, Lisbon’s warmth spoils Goshiki.

He is spoiled by saccharine breakfasts at Pastéis de Belém, where world-famous egg tarts are made with a secret recipe. Seated in the charming blue-white-tiled room, most customers order a reasonable two or three tarts each. Goshiki has ten. (Some shitty Reddit thread told him to “get as much of them as you can”.) He also insists that he can eat more than that, so you also have rice muffins, _bacalhau_ croquettes, fresh orange juice, and milky _galão_ because Goshiki can’t drink _bica_ espresso. 

Between the Monument of Discoveries and Tower of Belém, Goshiki sings along to the buskers crooning country songs along the Tagus River. You laugh as a guitarist becomes your boyfriend’s accompaniment, the cheers and claps of locals basking Goshiki in the Mediterranean warmth. 

At Ramiro, a Bourdain favourite, you share a table with two grandmothers thoroughly charmed by Goshiki’s vibrancy. Sharing _vinho verde_ , buttered toast, briny _percebes_ , and a “dessert” of steak sandwich, you two lose yourselves in the flavours of Lisbon.

But as you sit in the white ruins of Carmo Convent, the setting sun gentle on your exhausted bodies, you feel at peace with this rambunctious, much too colourful boy. You feel Goshiki’s breathing even out to the chimes of street cars and rush of tuk tuks as they head into Lisbon’s twilight. And in the middle of it all, a sleepy, thoroughly worn out Tsutomu mindlessly pats your head in his sun-drenched sleep.


	39. 『Bokuto Koutarou | Osaka, Japan』

Beyond the neon bodies and gaudiness of the night, Osaka lies in the ordinary. Ordinary work, ordinary play, ordinary people living to the best of their ordinary abilities. **  
**

Your ordinary ace is your exceptional tour guide in this city of dichotomies. Freshly showered and hair unstyled, Bokuto takes you to his favourite breakfast shop on the fringes of Shinsaibashi, where a hardworking elderly couple runs a daytime noodle shop. Bokuto’s arm is around you as the grandmother coos over the two of you, his smile beaming like the morning sun.

Osaka with Bokuto is skipping the ultra-modern malls and business suits of Umeda for the narrow alleyways and quirky shops of Nakazakichō. This neighbourhood survived WWII and many attempts at gentrification. It’s resilient; it’s grounding; it drums to its own beat. Your intertwined hands are in Bokuto’s hoodie pocket as you sit in one of the area’s many cafés. His eyes are closed in the dim _tatami_ alcove, your hand in his. 

At night, Osaka returns to the controlled chaos of unbridled excess. Bokuto’s hair is skyhigh as he takes haphazardly-angled selfies with you below Dōtonbori’s flaming dragons and enormous blowfish. With the smell and sight of glistening _takoyaki_ and _kushikatsu_ , his eyes move faster than his mouth, hand pulling yours as you clutch onto the fifteen skewers and plate of _okonomiyaki_. You smile exasperatedly. It should be fine to not remind him of his diet next week. 

In front of the Glico Man, Bokuto asks a blushing fan to take your pictures. Body behind yours, he holds your hands high in his, imitating the famed landmark. In the midst of the three-way junction of Dōtonburi, Shinsaibashi, and the Osaka River, with the lights and laughters of the most vibrant city around you, you have an ordinary man wrapped around your fingers.


	40. 『Akaashi Keiji | Kyoto, Japan』

In Kyoto, true beauty is in the everyday. Humble and humbling, the softness is in its cobblestone streets, the sturdiness in its silkiest _kimono_. Kyoto is beyond temple hopping and _geisha_ spotting. It is time slowed down and lives of the fleeting forever present. **  
**

Kyoto with Akaashi is about early mornings at Arashiyama, enjoying each other’s presence in the gentle sway of bamboo forests, listening to them whisper century old songs in the winds of tomorrow. Akaashi takes casually beautiful photos of you, and you sneak in pensive shots of a camera-shy Akaashi. On the riverbanks of the Hozu River, you sit with % Arabica minimalist coffee cups, chatting about idle nothingness, watching the jade greens trickle by with the thoughts of poets past.

Lunch is in modern Kyoto’s vintage cafés. Plush window seats, faint wisps of tobacco smoke, egg salad sandwiches, you and Akaashi watch the rest of the city pass by in modernity, tradition, and futures from the faded windows. He talks to you about Kyoto, the history of and his insights of, a quiet beauty in his extraordinary words. 

Skipping sunsets at Kamo River, Akaashi leads you to a canal not far from the famed river. Mothers are chatting, children are splashing in the shallow waters. A couple holds their wedding photoshoot on a nearby bridge, clad in traditional wedding attire, capturing their present for the future. You and Akaashi sit down on a quiet platform on top of the clear stream. He encourages you to take off your shoes, and you dip your tired legs into the cool waters. Children’s laughter upstream, a camera’s shutter downstream, the beauty of the now. Under the soft budding greens of weeping trees, oranges and golds and reds filtering through, Akaashi chuckles as he plays with your hands, talking about nothing, something, and forevermore. 


	41. 『Yukie and Kaori | Hakone, Japan』

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings:** f!reader and girl’s weekend trip.

Hakone is a long overdue escape from months of workday stress and coworkers to appease. Views of Mount Fuji, sunrise photoshoots in front of _torii_ on the lake, _onsen_ baths before breakfast, Hakone is spring. 

The three of you check into a nice traditional _ryokan_ that Kaori had heard about from sport’s promotion division hotshot Kuroo Tetsurou. Impeccable service, _wagashi_ and refreshing barley tea served upon arrival, you and Kaori smile at each other as you see Yukie relaxing already. 

Hakone has much to offer your weary souls. Fish cakes, hot spring _manju_ , and pillowy soft _mochi_ line the main strip. Yukie makes a beeline for all the samples liberally handed out. Kaori is your dedicated photographer. Sunshine shots by lush riverbanks, quiet candids at Sōun-ji, natural, refreshing, spring. 

Back in the _ryokan_ , you don your _yukata_ and hold more photoshoots in the gardens and _tatami_ rooms. Yukie poses with her delicious spoils from town; you and Kaori pretend to daintily drink tea for the camera. Dinners are luxurious affairs with more courses than you can count. Even Yukie skips her midnight chips and chocolates. 

Morning comes, Yukie is still in deep sleep. Kaori gently wakes you up for _onsen_ baths before breakfast. The two of you sit in ambient silence while being gently blanched by the thermal waters. Around you, late summer cicadas and a one-bird marching band drum their rhythmic sounds. It’s a serene and grounded kind of exhilaration. As you soon as you slip out, dry off, and slip on your _yukata_ again, you and Kaori grin sleepily at each other, body and mind like putty, ready for a nap before what is bound to be a springtime feast of a breakfast with a bright and well-rested Yukie.


	42. 『Konoha Akinori | Keelung, Taiwan』

Near the northernmost tip of Taiwan, Keelung is a local city with a vibrant heart. The city has gone through turbulent histories due to its strategic location of a deep water port. Today, Keelung now rests undisturbed, going about life with an attitude of its own. **  
**

Keelung with Konoha offers locality even in an unfamiliar city. With your arms around him, Konoha merges into the morning rush on your little motorbike. He does his best to fight for a parking space outside a popular breakfast joint. He scolds you when you burn your tongue on a thick scallion pancake, and profusely thanks the kind owner for immediately offering fresh soy milk to ease the burn.

Keelung is a people’s city. You and Konoha tick off destinations on your shared checklist: abandoned mansions and intricate temples. When you point out how strange it is for such a grand temple to be as empty as the old manor, he only sighs, “People have work, love.” 

The city’s night market is when the city comes to life. Couples getting post-work dinner, stalls competing for weekly regulars, a father feeding his child eel soup. Konoha’s eyes sparkle at the fried sweet potato balls; you pull him towards the freshly made candied hawthorns. He doesn’t sweat at the variety of options: you strategically share the smallest portions of everything. 

On the fringes of the night market, you squeeze Konoha’s hand, pointing to a grandmother struggling to push a cart of fruits to sell. Keelung is a people’s city. Its night market is a people’s market. It’s competition; it’s livelihood.

But when Konoha lets go of your hand to push the grandmother’s cart instead, under the single red fluorescent lamp of the fruit cart, you see yet another spark of Keelung’s kindness. 


	43. 『Washio Tatsuki | Kenting, Taiwan』

Kenting National Park stands vast and proud as the southernmost tip of Taiwan. It had seen the lives of the aboriginals of Paiwan, the arrival of Imperial China, and the colonisation of Imperial Japan. Today, Taiwanese and foreigners alike come to Kenting to marvel at the extent of this treasure island. **  
**

Washio is drawn by Kenting’s bustling silence. You two stay at the gateway to southern Taiwan, Henghua. In this southernmost township of Taiwan, you bask in the revival of a sleepy seaside town. You explore traditional egg roll shops with experimental flavours, old merchant houses turned modern B &B’s, and gastropubs inside dilapidated hotels. Surrounded by fresh fruits on palm-lined beaches, Washio responsibly reapplies your sunscreen when you fall asleep in the southern sun. 

The crowning jewel is Cape Eluanbi. At sunset, you take a short hike through mosquito infested trails (don’t worry, Washio brought repellents and as per Akaashi’s suggestion, an electric mosquito swatter). The tunnel of flora opens into the viewing platform of the cape. It’s rocky plains and sea-weathered reefs. Washio secures his jacket around you as the sea blows a gust of powerful wind your way. You grin back at him, and wrap his hand into yours, tugging them into a pocket. Slowly, silently, surely, the sun nestles into the horizon line, and you hear a quiet intake of breath as the last of the rays disappears into the sea.

This cape has stood for centuries as the fort of Taiwan south. It’s silent, it’s strong. Watching the quiet thoughtfulness in Washio’s eyes as he takes one last look at the darkening skies, you too sigh. Kenting, wild, rugged, and steadfast, holds a wisdom exchanged through time and the Pacific winds of change. 


	44. 『Kita Shinsuke | Lake Biwa, Japan』

It is said that Murasaki Shikibu spent the rest of her days accompanying the dowager empress on the shores of Lake Biwa. Nothing grand, nothing extravagant, life away from court. Life as simple as you want it to be, as colourful as you want it to be. It’s the way things have been for a millenium. It’s the way things will be.

Aboard retro green trains with vintage cushiony seats, you and Kita make your way around Lake Biwa. Sitting by the sunlit windows, Kita points out the tiled roofs and low houses, the rice paddies and pristine water. This is Biwa but for Kita, this is not unlike Hyōgo.

Mid-morning, you two make your way through narrow lanes of rice paddies on your rented bikes. Kita bikes leisurely, an anti-UV umbrella in hand. He gave you his straw hat because despite his best efforts, you had forgotten yours. When he secured the hat on you — no, he will not chance you falling into the paddies while biking with one hand — he merely chuckles, flicking your forehead with a stern “bring it next time then.” 

By the time you make it to the floating _torii_ gate of Shirahige Shrine, it is noon. Feet dipped in the shimmering waters, Kita hands you an _onigiri_ and _sake_ roll cake from a nearby farm. He gives his thanks for the meal, and you follow suit. 

At sunset, after exploring the lacquered black of Hikone Castle, Kita leads you to the canals of Ōmihachiman. As you two drift downstream, Kita secures his arms around you, your hat-free head tucked into his embrace. The waters of Lake Biwa floating underneath, the wisdoms of the ages trickle by. Kita smiles. Nothing grand, nothing extravagant, this is happiness. As it has always been.


	45. 『Ojiro Aran | Himeji, Japan』

On a grey rainy day, Aran suggests a trip to Himeji. People usually visit this beautiful city in sunshine, but for Aran, logic makes no difference. Sometimes, the best things in life are inexplicable, such as joy.

On Mount Shosha, under the auspices of rain and cloudy skies, Engyoji Temple envelops you in a sea of cloud, rain, and surreality all framed by green. Large, leafy trees, green blazing in the rain, nature is all around you. Aran holds a clear umbrella above your heads, unbothered by the rain collecting on his shoulder. He tells you of the in-depth details of the movie _The Last Samurai (_ partially filmed here), his deep voice harmonizing with the irregular pitter patter of the early summer rain. It’s serene, almost celestial. Fresh earthy air around you, the warm scent beside you, it’s breathtaking, an earthly godliness of man and mountain.

You become so lost in the feeling of walking hand in hand in the rainy mountainscape that you almost forget about Himeji Castle. Aran laughs as you rush back to town, telling you all the while that there is no need to hurry on such a beautiful day. You barely make it before closing, and when you’re about to dash through the castle in order to see everything, he reaches out, giving you an easy smile.

“Slow down, love. It might be nicer this way.”

And that’s how — in the tail ends of this grey, rainy day, with the deepening rain around you, the cold slowly seeping through the wooden floors and white plastered walls — you find yourself blazing warm from the sunshine beside you. In the small nooks and crannies of this White Heron Castle, surrounded by the pristine white and quiet romance of Himeji, you surrender judgement to tomorrow’s you and slow down your steps for today as Aran’s voice envelops you whole.


	46. 『Miya Atsumu | Beijing, China』

Immersed in the past while steeped in the future, Beijing is tradition ingrained into the cramped grey _hutong_ lanes of the old, innovation engineered into the imposing architectural feats of new, all at once. 

Beijing with Atsumu starts with the breakfast shops of old Beijing: old-style yoghurts, traditional cakes, and Manchurian _ludagun_. Atsumu focuses on the grandpas eating beside you two — “observation training”, he smirks at you dumbly. You try not to giggle at his stupid imitation of their lackadaisical poses and wise faces as he pretends to like the potent taste of _miancha_.

At the Great Wall, Atsumu carries your bag proudly, calling it “endurance training.” Once at the top, you watch him attempt to steady his heavy breathing in a terrible show of manly pride for you. As you make your way through the 9,371 rooms of the Forbidden Palace, Atsumu still insists on carrying all of your provisions. 

“Strength training,” he grins at you stupidly. Even though he’s sweating buckets. Forcing the water bottle into his hands, you demand that he let you wipe his sweat away. 

At twilight, upon Jingshan Hill, Atsumu drapes his arms around you, resting his head on yours as you look at the sprawling palace before you, unable to differentiate the setting sun from the manmade sea of reds, yellows, and golds. You feel your lover sigh. 

One day, when he can no longer walk as freely as he does now, when he can no longer eat as voraciously as he just did, when he can no longer jump and sprint and leap like he can, he will remember pulling you through the _hutong_ alleys with unbound curiosity, scarfing down an entire Peking duck as you watch in shock, holding your bags to disguise his love as “cardio training”. 

Atsumu will look back. But he will turn his sight back forwards, like he is doing now, with you right in front of him. For in Beijing, you don’t speak of memories, only progress, and when done right, perhaps happiness.

To Atsumu, Beijing is, was, and will be.


	47. 『Miya Osamu | Singapore, Singapore』

Contemporary and casual, upscale and unpretentious, Singapore is the future, an elegant everyday built upon the toils of yesterday. From the highest high end to the simplest luxuries, the city has it all in its past, present, and future. 

You and Osamu experience Singapore through its food. In the sweltering heat, you go to breakfast in matching flip flops to get _kaya_ toast and _kopi gau_ at an old school _kopitiam_. If you need instructions on how to eat the quintessential soft-boiled eggs, Osamu is ready with a dash of dark soy sauce and sprinkle of white pepper. 

Though he’s travels to eat, Osamu is more than happy to take some time to sightsee with you. You two marvel at the Cloud Forest at Gardens by the Bay and have photoshoots outside of colourful Peranakan houses. Osamu sends the quirkiest pictures to Atsumu from Haw Par Villa, comparing his twin to the statues from the twelfth level of hell. In Chinatown, Osamu feeds you _cweeh kueh_ before going into the Sri Mariamman Temple. His eyes light up at the coconut ice cream in Sentosa, stomach growling at the smell of _bak kuh teh_ by Clark Quay.

Sometimes, Osamu dons a suit and tie as you venture into some of the world’s best fine dining restaurants. But on most days, Osamu steers you to a different hawker centre. _Popiah_ , chicken rice, fried carrot cakes, _rojak_ , _char kway teow_ , the selections are endless. You end each day in a food coma, Osamu blissfully patting his muscular abs, already planning tomorrow’s menu.

When the city falls into night, you two float by the edge of Singapore’s iconic infinity pool. Osamu turns to you, eyes lit up in the glow of the city lights. In the centre of the now, the million specks of hawker stalls and Ferrari cars below you, he grins, giving you a short, sweet kiss. This promise of a tomorrow like today with you, this is his happiness.


	48. 『Suna Rintarou | Kobe, Japan』

A sophisticated intertwining of east and west, Kobe sits elegantly as the capital of Hyōgo. This port city is stylish, laidback, and irresistibly attractive with its sleek exterior hiding an old world grace. 

Suna has long been familiar with Kobe, so when you finally visit, he plays a reluctantly excited tour guide. In consideration of a no fuss travel, Suna convinces you to take those touristy Big Buses to make one full circle around town first, melon _pan_ and an entire loaf of _shokupan_ in your laps as he points out each landmark to you. Before a lunch of the famed Kobe beef, he finally gets off at Chinatown with you in tow. Surrounded by daylight reds and Chinese calligraphy, Suna shows you the stall where the Inarizaki VBC once fought over the last meat bun after their away games. He shows you the Peking duck restaurant where he filmed the twins getting kicked out of because they wouldn’t stop tossing the pancakes at each other like frisbees. 

“You miss them,” you smile teasingly. 

“Of course not.” 

You spend the blisteringly hot afternoon in even further relaxation: views of Kobe Port Tower, delicately rich cheesecakes, and creamy eggy puddings all enjoyed in the comforts of Harborland. With the way that Suna’s willing to indulge in your little whims and fancies, you can tell that this air-conditioned entertainment and shopping mecca is one of his favourite places on your itinerary. 

When night comes, Suna brings you up Mount Rokko for the million dollar view. 

“Why aren’t we hiking?”

“It’s prettier by cable car. Trust me.”

You laugh. “You’re just lazy.”

With the sprawling views of Kobe and Osaka Bay before you, stars lighting up one by one, Suna only grins back, sneaking a quick selfie with you. 

“Wait! Let’s retake that!” You pout, caught by surprise. 

“No,” Suna smirks, pulling you into him, stabilizing you in the gentle sway of the cable car. “Just enjoy the moment.”


End file.
